CREATION OF THE UNIVERSE ACCORDING GENESIS |
HISTORY
OF ALASKA.
CHAPTER
I.
|
In the great seizure and partition
of America by European powers there was no reason why Russia should not have a
share. She was mistress in the east and north as were France arid Spain in the
west and south; she was as grasping as Portugal and as cold and cruel as
England; and because she owned so much of Europe and Asia in the Arctic, the
desire was only increased thereby to extend her broad belt quite round the
world. It was but a step across from one continent to the other, and
intercourse between the primitive peoples of the two had been common from time
immemorial. It was but natural, I say, in the gigantic robbery of half a world,
that Russia should have a share; and had she been quicker about it, the belt
might as well have been continued to Greenland and Iceland.
Geographically,
Alaska is the northern end of the long cordillera which begins at Cape Horn,
extends through the two Americas, and is here joined by the Nevada-Cascade
range; the Coast Range from Lower California breaking into islands before
reaching this point. It is not always and altogether that cold and desolate
region which sometimes has been pictured, and which from its position we might
expect. Its configuration and climate are exceedingly varied. The southern
seaboard is comparatively mild and habitable; the northern frigid and
inhospitable.
Standing
at Mount St Elias as the middle of a crescent, we see the shoreline
stretching out in either direction, toward the south-east and the south-west,
ending in the former at Dixon Inlet, and in the latter sweeping off and
breaking into mountainous islands as it continues its course toward Kamchatka.
It is a most exceedingly rough and uncouth country, this part of it; the
shoreline being broken into fragments, with small and great islands guarding
the labyrinth of channels, bays, sounds, and inlets that line the mainland.
Back of these rise abruptly vast and rugged mountains, the two great
continental chains coming together here as if in final struggle for the
mastery. The coast range along the Pacific shore of Alaska attains an elevation
in places of eight or nine thousand feet, lying for the most part under
perpetual snow, with here and there glistening white peaks fourteen or sixteen
thousand feet above the sea. And the ruggedness of this Sitkan or southern
seaboard, the thirty-miles strip as it is sometimes called, with the Alexander
archipelago, continues as we pass on, to the Alaskan Mountains and the Aleutian
archipelago. It is in the Alaskan Range that nature assumes the heroic, that
the last battle of the mountains appears to have been fought. The din of it has
as yet hardly passed away; the great peaks of the range stand there proudly
triumphant but still angry; grumbling, smoking, and spitting fire, they gaze
upon their fallen foes of the archipelago, giants like themselves, though now
submerged, sunken in the sea, if not indeed hurled thence by their victorious
rivals. These great towering volcanic peaks and the quaking islands are superb
beyond description, filling the breast of the beholder with awe. And the ground
about, though cold enough upon the surface, steams and sweats in sympathy,
manifesting its internal warmth in geysers and hot springs, while from the
depths of the sea sometimes belches forth fire, if certain navigators may be
believed, and the sky blazes in northern lights.
All
along this sweep of southern seaboard Europeans may dwell in comfort if so
inclined. Even in midwinter the cold is seldom severe or of long duration. An
average temperature is 42°, though extremes have been named for certain
localities of from 19° to 58°, and again from 58° below zero in January, to 9
5° in summer. Winter is stormy, the winds at Sitka at this season being usually
easterly, those from the south bringing rain and snow. When the wind is from
the north-west the sky is clear, and the cold nights are often lighted by the
display of the aurora borealis. Winter breaks up in March, and during the clear
cold days of April the boats go out after furs. Yet, for a good portion of the
year there is an universal and dismal dampness—fogs interminable and drizzling
rain; clouds thick and heavy and low-lying, giving a water fall of six or eight
feet in thickness.
Much
of the soil is fertile, though in places wet. Behind a low wooded seaboard
often rise abruptly icy steeps, with here and there between the glacier canons
broad patches of sphagnum one or two feet thick, and well saturated with water.
The perpetual snow-line of the Makushin volcano is three thousand feet above
the sea, and vegetation ceases at an altitude of twenty-five hundred feet.
Grain does not ripen, but grasses thrive almost everywhere on the lowlands.
Berries are plentiful, particularly cranberries, though the sunlight is
scarcely strong enough to flavor them well. Immense spruce forests tower over
Prince William Sound and about Sitka. Kadiak is a good grazing country, capable
of sustaining large droves of cattle. On the Aleutian Islands trees do not
grow, but the grasses are luxuriant. In a word, here in the far north we find a
vegetation rightly belonging to a much lower latitude.
The
warm Japan current which comes up along the coast of Asia, bathing the islands
of the Aleutian archipelago as it crosses the Pacific and washing the shores of
America far to the southward, transforms the whole region from what would
otherwise be inhospitable into a habitation fit for man. Arising off the inner
and outer shores of Lower California, this stream first crosses the Pacific as
the great northern equatorial current, passing south of the Hawaiian Islands
and on to the coast of Asia, deflecting northward as it goes, and after its
grand and life-compelling sweep slowly returns to its starting-point. It is
this that clothes temperate isles in tropical vegetation, makes the silk-worm
flourish far north of its rightful home, and sends joy to the heart of the
hyperborean, even to him upon the strait of Bering, and almost to the Arctic
sea. It is this that thickly covers the steep mountain sides to the height of a
thousand feet and more with great growths of spruce, alder, willow, hemlock,
and yellow cedar. It is the striking of this warm current of air and water
against the cold shores of the north that causes nature to steam up in thick
fogs and dripping moisture, and compels the surcharged clouds to drop their
torrents.
Chief
among the fur-bearing animals is the seaotter, in the taking of whose life
the lives of thousands of human beings have been laid down. Of fish there are
cod, herring, halibut, and salmon, in abundance. The whale and the walrus
abound in places.
Go
back into the interior if you can get there, or round by. the Alaskan shore
north of the islands, along Bering sea and strait, which separate Asia and
America and indent the eastern border with great bays into which flow rivers,
one of them, the Yukon, having its sources far back in British Columbia; ascend
this stream, or traverse the country between it and the Arctic Ocean, and you
will find quite a different order of things. Clearer skies are there, and
drier, colder airs, and ice eternal. Along the Arctic shore runs a line of
hills in marked contrast to the mountains of the southern seaboard. Between
these ranges flow the Yukon with its tributaries, the Kuskokvim, Selawik, and
other streams.
Mr
Petrof, who traversed this region in 1880, says of it: “Here is an immense
tract reaching from Bering strait in a succession of rolling ice-bound moors
and low mountain ranges, for seven hundred miles an unbroken waste, to the
boundary line between us and British America. Then, again, from the crests of
Cook’s Inlet and the flanks of Mount St Elias northward over that vast area of
rugged mountain and lonely moor to the east, nearly eight hundred miles, is a
great expanse of country... by its position barred out from occupation and
settlement by our own people. The climatic conditions are such that its immense
area will remain undisturbed in the possession of its savage occupants, man
and beast.”
Before
speaking of the European discovery and conquest of Alaska, let us briefly
glance at the condition and character of those about to assume the mastery
here.
It
was in the middle of the sixteenth century that the Russians under Ivan
Vassilievich, the Terrible, threw off the last yoke of Tartar Khans; but with
the independence of the nation thus gained, the free cities, principalities,
and provinces lost all trace of their former liberties. An empire had been
wrung from the grasp of foreign despots, but only to be held by a despotism
more cruel than ever had been the Tartar domination. Ignorance, superstition,
and servitude were the normal condition of the lower classes. The nation could
scarcely be placed within the category of civilization. While in Spain the
ruling spirit was fanaticism, in Russia it was despotism.
Progress
was chained; if any sought to improve their lot they dared not show their gains
lest their master should take them. And the people thus long accustomed to
abject servility and concealment acquired the habit of dissimulation to a
remarkable degree. There was no recognition of the rights of man, and little of
natural morality. It was a preestablished and fundamental doctrine that the
weaker were slaves of the stronger. In feudal times the main difference between
the lowest class in Russia and in other parts of Europe was that the former
were not bound to the soil. Their condition however was none the less abject,
their slavery if possible was more complete. And what is not a little singular
in following the progress of nations, Russia, about the beginning of the
seventeenth century, introduced this custom of binding men to lands, just when
the other states of Europe were abolishing it. Freemen were authorized by law
to sell themselves. Insolvent debtors became the property of their creditors.
And howsoever bound, men could obtain their liberty only by purchase.
Women,
even of the better class, were held in oriental seclusion, and treated as
beasts; husbands and fathers might torture and kill them, and sell the offspring,
but if a wife killed her husband she was buried up to the neck and left to
starve.
Pewter
was unknown; only wooden dishes were in use. Each man carried a knife and
wooden spoon tied to the belt or sash. Bedding was scarcely used at court;
among rich and poor alike a wooden bench, the bare floor, or at the most a skin
of bear or wolf, sufficed for sleeping. The domestic ties were loose; since the
crimes of individuals were visited upon the whole kindred the children
scattered as soon as they were able. The lower classes had but a single name,
which was conferred in baptism, consequently the nearest relatives soon lost
sight of each other in their wandering life. Subsequently the serfs were
attached to the soil, but even to the present day an almost irresistible
disposition to rove is noticeable among the Russian people.
The
nobles, reared by a nation of slaves, were scarcely more intelligent than they.
But few of the priests understood Greek; and reading and writing even among the
nobles was almost unknown; astronomy and anatomy were classed among the
diabolic arts; calculations were made by means of a string of balls, and skins
of animals were the currency. Punishments were as barbarous as manners. The
peculator was publicly branded with a hot iron, then sent back to his place,
thus dishonoring himself and degrading his office. When a person was punished
for crime, all the members of his family were doomed to suffer likewise. Every
Russian who strayed beyond the frontier became a rebel and a heathen.
Nobles
alone could hold land; the tillers were as slaves. True, a middle or merchant
class managed amidst the general disruption to maintain some of their ancient
privileges. The gosti, or wholesale dealers, of Moscow, Novgorod, and
Pleskovo might sit at table with princes, and go on embassies; they were free
from imposts and many other exactions. Even the small traders preserved some of
the benefits which had originated in the free commercial cities. The priests,
seeing their influence at court declining, cultivated the merchants, and
married among their families.
Thus
all combined to strengthen the trading class as compared with the agricultural.
Taxes and salaries were paid in furs; in all old charters and other documents
penalties and rewards are given in furs. The very names of the early coins of
Novgorod point to their origin; we see there the grivernik grivnui, from
the mane or long hairs along the back; the oushka and poloushka,
ear and half-ear. This feature in the national economy explains to a certain
extent the slow spread of civilization over the tsar s dominions. In a country
where furs are the circulating medium, and hence the great desideratum, the
people must scatter and lead a savage life.
The
same cause, however, which impeded social and intellectual development
furnished, a stimulus for the future aggrandizement of the Muscovite domain.
For more than two and a half centuries the Hanseatic League had monopolized the
foreign trade; but the decline of Novgorod, the growing industry of the
Livonian cities, and the appearance of the ships of other countries in the
Baltic were already threatening the downfall of Hanseatic commerce, when an
unexpected discovery made the English acquainted with the White Sea, which
afforded direct intercourse with the inland provinces of the Russian empire.
The Hanse, by its superiority in the Baltic, had excluded all other maritime
nations from Russian commerce, but it was beyond the reach of their power to
prevent the English from sailing to the White Sea. In 1553, at the suggestion
of Sebastian Cabot, England sent three vessels under Sir Hugh Willoughby in
search of a north-east passage to China. Two of the vessels were lost, and the
third, commanded by Richard Chancellor, entered the White Sea. No sooner did he
know that the shore was Russia than Chancellor put on a bold face and said he
had come to establish commercial relations. The tsar, informed of the arrival
of the strangers, ordered them to Moscow. The insolent behavior of the Hanse
League had excited the tsar’s displeasure, and he was only too glad of other
intercourse with civilized nations. Every encouragement was offered by the
Russian monarch, and trade finally opened with England, and special privileges
were granted to the so-called Russia Company of English merchants.
The
English commercial expeditions through Russia, down the Volga, and across the
Caspian to Persia, were not financially successful, though perhaps valuable as
a hint to the Portuguese that the latter did not hold the only road to India.
To Russia, also, this traffic proved by no means an unalloyed blessing. The wealthy
merchants of Dantzig and other Hanse towns along the Baltic, who had enjoyed a
monopoly of Russian commerce, looked on with jealousy, and it was doubtless
owing to enmity in this influential quarter that Ivan failed in all his
attempts to secure Esthonia and Livonia, and gain access to the Baltic
seaports. On the other hand, English enterprise brought about commerce with
different nations, and introduced the products of north-western Europe into the
tsar’s dominions. Further than this, the Muscovites copied English craft, and
became more proficient in maritime affairs. An incident connected with this
traffic may be considered the first link of a long chain of events which
finally resulted in Russia’s stride across the Ural Mountains, and the
formation of a second or reserve empire, without which the original or European
structure might long since have fallen. On the return of an English expedition
from Persia across the Caspian, in 1573, the ship was attacked by Cossacks, who
gained possession of vessel and cargo, setting the crew adrift in a boat
furnished with some provisions. The Englishmen made their way to Astrakhan,
and on their report of what had befallen them two armed vessels were sent out.
The pirates were captured and put to death, while the cargo, worth between
30,000 and 40,000 pounds sterling, was safely landed at Astrakhan. The tsar
then despatched a numerous land force to destroy the nest of robbers infesting
the Lower Volga and the Caspian. His army spread dismay. The Cossacks saw that
submission was death, and many leaped from the bloodstained deck of their
rude barks to the saddle, being equally familiar with both. Then they banded
under determined leaders and set out for countries beyond the reach of Russia’s
long arm. Yermak Timofeief headed one of these bands, and thus the advance of
the Slav race toward the Pacific began. Rude and spasmodic as it was, the
traffic of the English laid the foundation of Russian commerce on the Caspian.
Previous to the appearance of the English the Russians had carried on their
trade with Bokhara and Persia entirely by land; but from that time they began
to construct transport ships on the Volga and to sail coastwise to the
circumjacent harbors of the Caspian.
Before
following the tide of conquest across the Ural Mountains, it may be well to
cast a brief glance over the contemporaneous efforts of English and Dutch
navigators to advance in the same easterly direction by water, or rather to
thread their way between the masses of floating and solid ice besetting the
navigable channels of the Arctic, demonstrating as they do the general
impression prevalent among European nations at the time, that the route pursued
by Columbus and his successors was not the only one leading to the inexhaustible
treasures of the Indies, and to that Cathay which the Latin maritime powers
were making strenuous efforts to monopolize.
The last English expedition in search of the northeast
passage, undertaken in the sixteenth century, consisted of two barks which
sailed from England early in 1580, and were fortunate enough to pass beyond the
straits of Vaigatz, but made no new discoveries and brought but a moderate
return to their owners. The Russians meanwhile kept up a vigorous coasting
trade, their ill-shaped and ill-appointed craft generally being found far in
advance of their more pretentious competitors.
In
1594 the states-general of Holland offered a premium of twenty-five thousand
florins to the lucky navigator who should open the much desired highway. A
squadron of four small vessels commanded by Cornells Nay was the first to enter
for the prize. A merchant named Linschoten, possessed of considerable
scientific attainments, accompanied the expedition as commercial agent, and
Willem Barentz, who commanded one of the vessels, acted as pilot. They sailed
from Holland on the 15th of June 1594, and arrived safely at the bay of
Kilduyn, on the coast of Lapland. Here they separated, Nay heading for Vaigatz
Straits and Barentz choosing a more northerly route. The latter discovered and
named Ys Hoek, or Ice Cape, the northern extremity of Novaia Zemlia, while the
other vessels passed through the straits, where they met with numerous Russian lodkas,
or small craft. This southern division entered the sea of Kara, called by
Linschoten the sea of Tartary, on the 1st of August. Wooden crosses were
observed at various points of the coast, and the inhabitants bore evidence of
intercourse with the Russians by their manner of salutation. The Samoiedes had
come in contact with the advancing Muscovites in the interior as well as on the
coast.
On
the 11th of August, when their astronomical observations placed the vessels
fifty leagues to the eastward of the straits, with land still in sight toward
the east, this part of the expedition turned back, evidently apprehensive of
sharing the fate of their English predecessors, who had been unfortunate in
those latitudes. The two divisions fell in with each other on the homeward
voyage, and arrived at Amsterdam on the 25th of September of the same year.
A
second expedition sailed from Amsterdam on the same errand in 1595. It
consisted of not less than seven vessels. Willem Barentz was chief in command,
assisted by Heemskerk, Linschoten, and Cornells Rijp. The departure of this
squadron was for some reason delayed until July, and after weathering the
North Cape a few of the vessels sailed directly for the White Sea to trade,
while the others proceeded through the straits of Vaigatz. They met, as usual,
with Russian lodkas, and for the first time definite information was
obtained of the great river Yenissei, which the Russians had already reached by
land. After prolonged battling against ice and contrary winds and currents, the
expedition turned back on the 15th of September and made sail for Amsterdam.
After
this second failure the states-general washed their hands of further enterprise
in that direction, but the city of Amsterdam still showed some faith in
ultimate success by fitting out two ships and intrusting them respectively to
Barentz and Rijp. This expedition made an early start, sailing on the 22d of
May 1596. Their course was shaped in accordance with Barentz’ theory that more
to the north there was a better chance of finding an open sea. On the 9th of
June they discovered Bear Island in latitude 74° 30'. Still keeping on their
first course they again encountered land in latitude 79° 30', Spitzbergen, and
in July the two vessels separated in search of a clear channel to the east. On
the 26th of August Barentz was forced by a gale into a bay on the east coast of
Novaia Zemlia, on which occasion the ice seriously damaged his vessel. Here the
venturesome Hollanders constructed a house and passed a winter full of misery,
a continued struggle with famishing bears and the deadly cold. Toward spring the
castaways constructed two open boats out of remnants of the wreck, fitted them
out as well as they could, and put to sea on the 14th of June 1597. Six days
later Barentz died. In July the unfortunates fell in with some Russian lodkas and obtained provisions. They finally reached Kilduyn Bay in Lapland, one of
the rendezvous of White Sea traders. Several Dutch vessels were anchored there,
and one of them was commanded by Rijp, who had returned to Amsterdam and
sailed again on a private enterprise. He extended all possible aid to his
former companions and obtained passage for them on several vessels. This put an
end in Holland to explorations in search of a northern route to India, until
the attempts of Hudson in 1608-9. The problem was partially solved by Deshnef’s
obscure voyage in 1648, and after another failure by Wood in 1676, Russia made
the attempt, Vitus Bering starting from Kamchatka; afterward were the efforts
of Shalaurof and of Billings. Finally a Swedish expedition under Nordenskjold
accomplished the feat in 1879, after wintering on the Arctic coast.